


It Is

by BrosleCub12



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Domestic, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-27
Updated: 2012-09-27
Packaged: 2017-11-15 04:21:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 237
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/523090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BrosleCub12/pseuds/BrosleCub12
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It feels like comfort.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It Is

**Author's Note:**

> Just a little something fun, written before Series 2. More one-shots might be added soon enough. :)

John turns to him after the police leave, Donovan and Anderson scowling at Sherlock on the way down the stairs. It’s... remarkable, the way he manages to still Sherlock right there in the middle of the kitchen, hands on his shoulders, yet still keeping a good few inches between them.

Respecting Sherlock's personal space. 

‘We’ll get Yorick back out from behind the sofa in a minute, don’t worry,’ he promises him and Sherlock nods, forlornly. Honestly, he knows Anderson’s a little highly-strung from his divorce (should have considered his own ability for straying before he married her, quite frankly, as should she have done) but was there _really_ any need to throw the skull at him?

John smiles a little, something considerably lighter about his face than usual – something different to the worry-lines, the confusion of his mouth, the smallest half-circles where the nightmares of Afghanistan still linger. _Sympathetic,_ it seems. Sherlock’s surprised; startled even, by the sheer _feeling_ of skin brushing against skin, John’s thumb a light tremble against his face. 

‘Are you alright?’ he asks him then, softly, and Sherlock can only nod. 

‘... Anderson’s an idiot.’ 

Chuckling, his mouth twitching, John nods back. ‘Yeah. Yeah, he is.’ His thumb moves – _fondly?_ – across Sherlock’s chin and then he leans up to kiss him lightly on the mouth before pulling him in, enclosing him, fitting him into his hold. It’s an odd sensation.

It feels like comfort. 

*


End file.
